


Let me take care of you

by idothiscrap



Series: Effably Kink Husbands [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), BDSM, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Fluff, French Kissing, I guess both of them do, I guess kind of age regression play but quite subtle, I'm gonna bury you in as realistic as possible consent and afterplay, Lots of caring, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Other, Praise Kink, Seriously a lot of consent, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), non-sexual bdsm, sort-of-daddy dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22213279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idothiscrap/pseuds/idothiscrap
Summary: In which Aziraphale pampers Crowley in a sort-of-daddy dynamic. There is a lot of fluff and intimate moments and also praising.There is aftercare and afterplay conversations.They are both happy and kinky because they deserve it so much.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Effably Kink Husbands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599025
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	Let me take care of you

* * *

“'M home, Angel!!” The door closed behind Crowley. They walked their way to the private rooms at the back looking around for Aziraphale. The bookshop was closed but some noises were coming out from somewhere in the maze of shelves. They tried again “Hello?...Angel??”. After that, a thud and a rumble of papers moving preceded rushed steps and finally a smiling angel emerged behind a corner saying “Oh! Hi, my dear boy, I didn't hear you” as he leaned to kiss them. “Is there anything important that you have to do today?” he continued- “Hm...no, 'guess not” - “OK, excellent my dear. Now, is there something that you want to tell me about your day or something urgent?” - “Hmmm...no, Angel, guess not...” Crowley hesitated, as their eyebrows started to knit. “Oh, marvellous. Last question, my love, do you remember your colours?”. Crowley's bafflement vanished at once and they smirked happily as they answered. “I do, Mr Fell: green, yellow, red, black”. “Perfect, my love. Now go change to something smart and meet me at the till, you have fifteen minutes sweetheart, don't be late”.

Exactly fourteen minutes later Crowley was in a three piece purple suit taking Aziraphale's arm and letting themself being lead through the bookshop door and into the world. They walked pass the Bentley and went for the Vauxhall Cresta E, property of Mr.Fell. It was a classic, sturdy, British car that fitted him perfectly. Aziraphale opened the passenger door for Crowley, and then sat behind the wheel.

They ride was short, since the place wasn't far away, but the angel liked to drive in those dates, and Crowley -contrary to what they had thought the first time- enjoyed very much letting him take charge. It was a good thing that they never needed to worry about parking or booking tables in advanced. Aziraphale opened the seat door for them, and the demon took his arm again as they entered the tea room. The table was set and they were showed to their seats in a cosy boot on the left side of the restaurant, next to a window that opened to a very cliché Chinatown alley. The restaurant was elegant and modern, panelled with dark wood and decorated in a dark, rich palette combined with light coloured linen and upholstery. Some touches of traditional Taiwanese décor worked together perfectly with the typically English structure of the building, giving the place a unique and pleasant look. The lighting was a perfect combination of natural and artificial, intimate but not too dimmed so they could see perfectly despite the sunglasses. In short, the place had been chosen with Crowley's tastes and comfort in mind. The same, the demon anticipated, would happen with the food and drinks.

They had just accommodated themselves in the booth when a waitress appeared with the menus and two glasses of a fizzy cocktail which smell inmediately captured Crowley's interest. The angel promptly ordered in behalf of both of them -of course he had done a thorough research before choosing the place, so he could have yelled the order in their way in if it wasn't an absolutely impolite and distasteful thing to do- and they sat side by side savouring the drink and chatting lightly.

Crowley knew the real show began when the food arrived, and they looked forward to it. Aziraphale was fully aware of that, and enjoyed immensely those few minutes in which the demon tried to hide their impatience under their usual display of nonchalance, failing miserably. He loved making the demon nervous and yearning.

He had ordered one of the characteristic afternoon tea menus the restaurant offered: a first course consisting on a tasting of savoury treats, followed by a selection of Taiwanese sweet pastries, all accompanied by two very specific brews chosen by him from the enormous available selection and a considerable amount of tea-based alcoholic beverages. When the first pot and course arrived, he very politely refused the help from the waitress and put himself to work. It was his treat to his boy, and he liked it in a very specific way. But, overall, he didn't want a human interrupting their very public intimate moment. He fiddled with the pot for a while and finally poured two cups, handling one to Crowley- “Tie Guang Yin, harvested in Spring, I think you will appreciate the dry wood hints, my dear”- and keeping one for himself. They drank obediently and enjoyed the woody flavours as their husband had predicted. But there was so much more. It was flowery too, and tasted a bit like roasted chestnuts. Out of the corner of their eye, Crowley observed Aziraphale composing the perfect bite out of one of the foods and its side and dressing, and carefully assembling it to be able to pick it all at once with the chopsticks. When he was satisfied, he popped it into his mouth, chew slowly and with delight, and swallowed. “Do you want a taste, dear boy?”- the much-anticipated question- “I do. Please”. The angel smiled in the least angelic manner and turned over to take Crowley's face in his hands. He parted his lips and kissed the demon deeply, firmly and slowly, letting Crowley's tongue explore every corner of his mouth, tasting the delicious combination of flavours; the lightness of the taro crust, the earthly sweetness of the sweet potato, the freshness of the ginger and the lemongrass... all dancing in the best of undertastes that was their lover. His breath brought more subtle tones to Crowley's tongue, avidly moving and twisting and brushing his, and they kept enraptured in their dance until the last aroma of the perfectly balanced mouthful was consumed. When Aziraphale noticed his lover's tongue movements getting lazier and idler, he held him back and moved away grinning “I'm feeding you, my love, it will get cold if you don't let me continue”. Crowley pouted a little but they knew the game, so they sipped their delicious tea and awaited for the next taste. It was roasted turnip and boiled eggs in this one, among many other things that they didn't know the name of. Aziraphale would rhythmically break the kiss for this one, explaining the new flavours to them in between smooches, and then kissing them as deeply as he could so they could catch every tiny subtle hint of a spice or a herb used in the recipe. Those were their favourite tastes, and if it wasn't absolutely impossible to lie about not knowing a flavour, they would do it just for the pleasure of it. But Aziraphale would knowingly always order at least one dish with an uncharted flavour. After a few tastes, the angel put his hand on Crowley's thigh and softly asked for a colour. “Green”. So he continued.

The waitress came again with the second course and a new batch of tea, and was again dismissed very politely by a very composed angel. So composed that for a minute she thought maybe she had dreamt of -and not witnessed- him eating and energetically frenchkissing his partner -who had not taken a bite of food, by the way-for about half an hour now.

By the end of the meal, the demon was positively dazzled, floating in a mixture of outstanding alcoholic tea and mind-boggling kisses loaded with a hundred different flavours. The angel was, on the outside, as fresh as ever, placidly and gentlemanly taking care of the bill and tipping big (to make up for the show). On the inside, he was equally fresh and content, gloating on his ability to make a mess out of his husband. He carried them outside the tea room and put them in the car with a playful peck before sitting behind the wheel again and driving straight to Mayfair.

“Now, dear boy, I'm going to undress you and wash you. Can you give me a colour?” “Green”. “OK dear, let's go then”. He swap them off their feet and carried them to the bathroom. The room was ridiculously big, tiled in black, and had a dramatic crimson retro bathtub -with golden legs and taps- just in the middle of it. Crowley confessed long time ago to having miracled the bathtub the night after they stopped Armaggeddon so Aziraphale could take a bath, but since then it had been put to good use by both of them in many occasions. He sat the demon in the little matching stool (also crimson, also golden legs, Crowley was nothing if not a drama queen) and started to untie their laces. He took off the shoes and socks, tenderly caressing his lover's feet with the back of his hand before making them stand on the fluffy mat to continue undressing them. He surrounded them and took off the jacket from the back, rubbing his nuckles against Crowley's neck as he whispered behind their ear. “You are so incredibly gorgeous, my love”-hangs the jacket in a hook behind them- “Your neck is long and delicate and I love to mark it mine” -as he unbuttons the vest from behind, with his arms under theirs- “So are your shoulders, lean, and strong, and perfect” -as he slides the vest down their arms with his hands and hangs it on the hook too. Crowley's eyes are closed and their face is dazzled again, Aziraphale can barely bear how beautiful they is, specially when they let themself go in his hands like that. He's in front of them again, taking Crowley's left hand and unbuttoning the cuff as he brushes the inside of their wrists with his thumb. He raises their hand and kisses their palm, and then does the same with their right hand. “Your hands are perfect, with your long and beautiful and wise fingers, and your wrists are just exquisite. Maybe even more than your neck, and I think I've told you about your neck” - He smirks and grabs the demon's chin, looking into Crowley's eyes that are now wide opened, and soon his fingers are busy undoing the tie and the shirt- “I love leaving marks in this delicious neck of yours, I'm thinking of starting now my dear, why wait. Colour?” “Green” -It's barely more than a whisper- “Marvelous”. The angel starts to slowly lick and bite the line of Crowley's neck and shoulders as he uncovers it, taking their hands again and kissing their palms one more time before carefully hanging the shirt too. “Now let's talk about your cock, darling. It really is delightful” -he firmly tugs the snake-shaped silver buckle, yanking the demon's hips closer to him and thrusting his hand inside their flies before starting to unlock it- “It's so smooth and pretty, so inciting, and it hardens so beautifully under my touch” - the trousers fall loudly to the floor, with the belt still attached to them- “Oh! I thought you hated tartan, love”,- Aziraphale teases at the sight of their underwear, knowing perfectly well that his demon had chosen it for his sake. He slides his hands to cover Crowley's buttocks, gently kneading them as he continues - “But enough about your delicious body, and let's talk about you, my dear. You are the final pleasure. You, my boy, are amazing. So sweet, and loving, and clever...”. As he keeps praising them in apparent relaxation, he tightens the embrace and remains very observant of their reactions. There it is, a very subtle flinch in their glute. “Colour, my dear?”. After a pensive moment, Crowley answers “...Yellowish?”. “Yellowish is not one of your colours, my love”, he pushes very softly. Another pensive moment passes before a very soft “Yellow” comes out of the demon's mouth. “Very well, my dear, I will stop the praising then. I'm going to wrap you in your bathrobe and get the water running. Colour?” “Green” “Very well”. “You handle it so much better each time we try it, my lovely boy, I'm very proud of you for taking it so well”, he added when the tension had lessen slightly, taking their head in his hands and kissing the top of it, where their fringe started in an endearing cowlick.

When the bath was ready, the angel unwrapped Crowley from their robe and help them into the tub, taking a sit next to it with the book he had chosen for that evening already in his hands. It was another one about the creation of the universe and the stars; the newest one Aziraphale could lay hands on, and it was so full of new wrong details and theories that he was sure Crowley was going to love it. As he opened the book and read the title -which immediately caused a pointed comment from the demon- he marvelled himself in how amusing they found all this matter. The blatant inaccuracies would be quite enraging to him, had he had anything to do with their making at all, but his sweet demon just loved human imagination too much for that. They always made sarcastic comments -that faded away as they fell deeper in their sub spot- but they never had any venom. It was just playful smartassy, almost childish pedantry, and the angel rejoiced in it. He read for them, as they soaked in the almost boiling water that never got cold, until the demon started to yawn softly. “I think it's time for you to go to bed, my dear boy, let me take you”. He lifted the limp demon out of the tub and wrapped them one more time with a big towel, sitting them on his lap and cooing as he slowly rubbed them dry. It was wondrously intimate to watch Crowley so relaxed, even for him. Their guard fully down for once, their features loose and their eyes soft, completely amber, the pupils wide, looking at him with such peace and abandon. They looked so fragile, and he was so honoured to be let in like that.

“I'm going to put on your pyjamas and put you to bed”. Whimpering noises followed that statement, so he backed out. “How are we feeling with that, sweetheart? Can I have a colour?” A very deep, soft voice made its way out of the demon's mouth, buried in the nook of Aziraphale's clavicle “'you gonna cuddle me?” they asked sheepishly. “Of course, my dear, it will be my pleasure”, he answered reassuringly. “Then green” they purred. Grinning ear to ear, he started to dress them with the special tartan fleece pyjamas they used for this sessions. Crowley knew he always cuddled them to sleep, but oh, they asked -Aziraphale beamed-; they wanted something and they asked for it. That was a job so well done. He put their feet through the rolled legs of the trousers, and lifted their butt a little to adjust the pants around their hips first, asking the demon for collaboration when needed. He rolled the sleeves and put each hand through them -“hands up, dear”- as he slid it down their arms, head and chest and tugged the shirt hem down to cover their waist, pecking the suggestive hollow between their clavicles conveniently revealed by the tugging- “there you go, my love, all set”. He lifted them from his lap and carried the happy bundle of demon limbs to the bedroom, where he settled them in the big bed, under the fluffy quilt with their teddy snake that they claimed to find ridiculous. He then draped himself over Crowley's body, on top of the bed, contouring the shape of his lover from behind as an outer shell. Crowley was letting out content sighs and mumbling their adoration for the angel, feeling light, and happy, and safe. They felt Aziraphale's face nuzzling in the curve of their nape, humming some angelic tune, and his arms wrapping around their knees, and they fell asleep.

* * *

The first thing Crowley felt was the sweet smell of their angel surrounding them completely. The second was the heaviness of his body on top of theirs. They kept their eyes closed, burying themself in the warm sensations going down their body, not wanting to awake and break the magic. After some minutes, however, they opened them and turned around to look at the angel in the face. They knew by now that opening their eyes didn't make Aziraphale vanish, and that he would stay with them like that as long as they needed him to. “'Morning Angel, love of my life” they beamed at him with soggy voice. “Good morning my dear Crowley, light of my existence” answered Aziraphale endearingly, smiling amused by Crowley's lovey dovey outburst. They both smiled and snuggled their faces. The demon lifted the quilt with a small gesture, and Aziraphale crawled under it and took them between his arms. They cuddled and kissed for a while as they made sure they had shook off the last bits of their sub and dom spaces and gone back to normal. And then they continued a bit longer just for the joy of it.

* * *

Crowley came from the kitchen with a fresh pot and poured into the cups already set on the coffee table, and then added some liquor in theirs smiling playfully at the censuring look the angel gave them. “Oh, c'mon Angel, 's just a splash, you know I'm perfectly sober, but if you prefer I can wait until we finish the talk”. Aziraphale rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed “oh, you always play the same trick, you serpent, you know I'm going to let you drink it, stop pretending”. They both smiled and caressed each other hand. “Yesterday was sublime, Angel, you outdid yourself. The tea place was a delight, and the bath and the book were heartwarming. I loved every minute”. “Isn't it getting too predictable? I am a tad afraid of becoming boring”. “You couldn't bore me in ten thousand years if you tried, Angel. It's a small routine, I love that it is. And you always change it just enough to keep it thrilling yet safe. Are you getting bored of it yourself?”. “Oh! My dear boy! That, I think, would be impossible. I treasure every minute that you submit to me like that. It's ecstatic”. “We don't say that word” Crowley grunted. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, old habits...but they would writhe if they heard me using it to describe what we do, you know?”-that got an amused snort from the demon. “...'Kay, 'kay, message received. I'm happy that it makes you happy, Angel. It feels very good to me too, it's still a surprise that it does but it does”. Aziraphale's face went more serious as he added “I am very proud of you Crowley, you have come so far...” “Ngk, Angel....” they tried to dodge, but the angel wouldn't let them. “You have, my dear. Self love is a difficult path and I am privileged to help you walk it like you have always done for even without trying”. “Oh, shut up Angel...” they burst, blushing and squirming a little. This part was still a bit uncomfortable. A familiar silence fell as Crowley covered the small distance between them and squeezed their body against Aziraphale's - “Thank you” they whispered “thank you for being always so careful and encouraging me to set boundaries”. “You are getting so much better at it”. “I am, yes” they smiled, burying their face in Aziraphale's neck; “I fell pretty deep into space yesterday. It was _good_ ”. “I could feel it, dear, it was delicious. I did to, I must say. One of our bests?”. “One of our bests”. “Again next week?”. “Sure”.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the afterplay doesn't get too boring, but I find important to include it when depicting power games. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.  
> This said, any constructive criticism about content or style is very welcomed.


End file.
